Reborn Betrayal
by Whisper5150
Summary: Surely revenge is a good thing yes? And when it is Revenge on an entire species, it is even better, yes? I certainly hope so... Cause that is what Mother wants, so we will give it. -Saint.
1. Saint's Rebirth

**Hello and welcome to my first story. I had the idea for this story after I was kicked from my guild and before you ask, no this isn't a story of me begging to be let back in. It is also being written before any sort of Mordremoth DLC so it might not be canon after a while. I just wanted to write this story. I hope you enjoy. (You might be a bit in the dark. I am starting in the middle of something kinda. Sorry) I do not own anyone or anything in this story except DDK. Don't like, don't read.**

"I'm sorry but we are tired of your constant jokes and sick humor." His words constantly echoed in his mind. "We have decided to kick you from the guild." Those damned words that sent him to madness.

 _Don't listen to them,_ the second, female voice whispered seductively, _join me, and make them pay. Make them suffer!_ The voice he had been hearing since the test.

'Yes mother,' he thought to himself 'that is a grand idea.'

"Hello?"Angel shouted into the Mists. Craning her neck around herself, she realized she was no longer in the heat of battle with… Who was she fighting? Well whoever they were, she seemed to be standing right in the middle of the Hill's bridge now. Not only that but everything seemed to have a dull pink color, which she knew wasn't right.

As she turned more and more trying to assess the situation, a shadow suddenly appeared out of seemingly nothing. As it approached she attempted to crawl away, but only succeeded in backing precariously towards the edge.

"Angel calm down! It's me!" The shadow cries, then states jokingly. "Don't go falling for me now, it's a bit too late."

Slowly the figure comes out of the haze and Angel gasps in shock. DDK was standing there in the shiniest armor she had ever seen. It looked similar to Sylvari cultural armor tier one, but instead of a typical green-brown leafy color, it was more of a bright gold with certain parts being a dark purple in a pattern she couldn't recognize. It was also more elegant and elaborate, like it was made more for a king. Whenever he walked, the back would drag on the ground. The helm seemed to be different, covering more of the eyes and adorned with gems. However, he was still the snotty, smart-ass child in Sylvan clothing from before, with his green skin and innocent face. And she still hated him.

"What are You doing here?" Angel spat, her voice raising with each word. "As a matter of fact, where is everyone else?"

DDK laughs "I wouldn't be worrying about them" He sits down crosslegged in front of her. "Most of HoD's BL defense team is at Bay, word is that the 'Dragons are attacking the mists.' I frankly am not bothered. It was bound to happen eventually."

Though she didn't believe him for a second, the thought still shook her to the core. "I have to get out there and help!" She attempted to stand but shrieked in agony. She looked down.

Her feet were buried deep in the mouths of two large Fly Traps. Every movement on her part caused her nerves to cry out, yet the fly traps could drag her easily on their strange tendrils they used to move. The pain made her scream out again

"Don't just stand there you stupid fool!" She shouted at DDK, more from pain and fear then anger. "Help me get these damned things off!" She reaches down to pry the monsters off but as she pulled they seemed to get even heavier.

"You mean the Mordrem Planste?" DDK asks. "Yeah just give me a second" He turns rummages through his back, humming a tune unfamiliar to Angel. Reaching into his bag, he pulls out a palm-sized seed and chucks it above her and over the side of the bridge, watching it sail through the air. Then he looks back to Angel. "Now can you repeat that?"

With a very sarcastic voice and elaborate pauses to groan, she says "Help me. Get these. Fucking plants. Off my feet!"

"Oh, yah" DDK murmurs "Sorry but I can't help you with that. Those don't come off until Mother commands it."

"Mother?" Angel pauses for a moment "You mean the Pale Tree? Our Mother?" She reaches into her pack to search for her daggers, but can't find them.

"Looking for these?" DDK asks slyly, holding them within her reach, then throws them over the side of the bridge. "And no, not the False tree."

"You asshole! What the hell do you mean by False tree?" Angel screams then her rage is replaced by fear "You aren't with the Nightmare Court, are you?!"

DDK visibly shudders "I would never swoop to such lows! For shame Angel, for shame." He turns and wanders back into the mist to plant another seed. "No, I have found a much nobler cause with The Mother Of Our Mother."

"Stop speaking in these stupid riddles! What 'Mother of our mother?'" Angel curses under her breath and resorts back to reaching her fingers into the slimy mouth of these grotesque abominations on her feet.

DDK scoffs at her "First of all, you are wasting your time" He reaches down to take her hand away but she punches him in the forearm to get him away. Hissing softly, he pulls his hand back and rubs it. "Secondly, don't hit me or you won't live to regret it" He scowls and draws his sword to emphasize his point. Angel merely glares up at him for a second then deems him as unthreatening. "Finally, you might know the True Mother better as Mordremoth."

Now he had her attention. She sat frozen, not even daring to look up at him. 'This is the kind of power I liked' he thought 'I want more of it'. "Oh yes, you pushing me away has shown me the truth of our kind. I have embraced who we are. Ceara knew what we were all to blind to see because of the 'help' of the False Tree." He brought the flat of his blade against her chin and lifted it up.

"I know you and our kin wouldn't believe me. You have been poisoned by the False Tree and her 'Firstborn'. Well I will let you be the first to know that my comrades and I are the Reborn, given new light under Mother's watchful eye. She gave me what I have always wanted from the world; Knowledge. And now I can't stop wanting more of it. I am Greed personified, and I welcome it.

Mother has asked me to find the greatest of our kind to be Reborn along with us. Will you allow Her light to awaken in you the powers long dormant? Will you let her save you from the Pale Tree's lies?"

"Don't you understand what you are getting into?!" Angel interrupts. "Mordremoth doesn't care about us! It only wants to destroy the world." Then in an undertone she adds "I guess I couldn't expect you to understand."

He pushes his sword hard against her neck. "What are you implying? That I am too Young?" He growls. When she nods, his eyes dilate, he stops thinking, his bloodlust takes over and he swings his sword's pommel hard against the sides of her skull over and over in rapid succession while screaming "I AM NOT A CHILD! A CHILD CAN'T DO WHAT I HAVE DONE! A CHILD CAN'T BE AS POWERFUL AS I AM!" Each word ringing off the empty canyon in the keep and each blow stings more and more. Eventually he calms and puts the blade back against her neck

Then as if nothing happened he smiles and lowers the sword away from her neck, leaving a small print. "Think about her for me. I need to take care of this again." He shows her another of those seeds and walks into the mists humming again.

Angel doesn't even consider his 'proposal' since to her it might as well have been a death threat. Once she knew DDK couldn't see her, she again shoves both her hands into one of the Planste's mouth and pulls desperately to open it, but the stupid thing still won't budge. She yanks her hands out, groans at the excess slime, and reaches down to pull on the roots. Yanking hard, she slides it left and right as carefully as she can to not hurt herself, but even with all the saliva from the thing's mouth it didn't move.

Just as she begins to lose hope, a glint catches her eye. She instinctively moves away from the object but gasps in utter joy. DDK left his pack and maybe, just maybe, there could be something to help her. She held her breath as she grasped for the bag. Her body screamed in protest to the movement, but she didn't give up hope. Finally she grabs the straps and wrenches it close. She would have hugged it had it belonged to anyone else.

She throws open the top and release the breath of air she was holding to let out a happy whisper. On top of tons of other junk and a great many seeds which she could only hope weren't deadly, a mordrem dagger glowed up at her like a beacon of hope. She glanced at the pommel and scowled. It was already soulbound. She grabs it anyway, another idea in her mind.

Grasping the dagger by the blade, she shoves the pommel into the monster's mouth. Then using it as leverage, she attempted to pry it open.

Little by little they gave, and little by little her hope grew until she was able to pull her foot out. Careful not to scream out in pain she starts on the other foot. The mordrem turns gray, shrivels, and dies without a sound to Angel's joy.

Suddenly the dagger is launched out of her hand, sailing deep into the mist. A arrow clatters noisily to the ground, the tip a shade of bright gold and the fletch leaves of purple and green.

Then she is lifted off the ground, stopped only when the Mordrem Planste tied her to the ground with its roots. DDK had her by the collar of her armor, and as he brought his hand back, she realized what he planned to do but had no initiative to dodge. When he brought his hand down again, balled in a fist, she weakly brought her hands up to defend. The blow still hit her square in the jaw and he let the force of the punch carry her sprawling to the center of the bridge.

"For an Angel you make some pretty bad decisions." He laughs but cuts it short when realization dawns on him. He looks longingly over the edge of the bridge. "That was my favorite dagger!" He shouts at her, "and you just made me throw it away!" He closes in, ready to stomp on her injured foot but then Angel looks up at him.

"Please," She begs, tears in her eyes and fear in her voice, "DDK. Don't hurt me please. Don't take me to Mordremoth."

She sees a visual change in his face and for a moment she thought she had him fooled. Then he frowned at her "Don't take me for a child anymore Angel. I am a Saint now. Holy amongst our kind and the Mordrem alike. You shall address me as such." He pulls out one last seed, showing it to Angel, then slamming his sword down into the bridge. Pulling it back out, he places the seed in the small dent he created. Leaning over, he whispers soothingly at the seed, quiet enough Angel couldn't hear any words.

The canyon below erupts in noise so loudly and suddenly Angel covers her ears and screams in terror and pain. 'Saint' smiles gleefully at her terror and takes a curious glance over the side of the bridge. Then he turns to Angel with an elaborate bow. "My lady," he says in what can only be described as fake passion "your Pitchiaric awaits." Cautiously and wary of every move DDK makes Angel crawls to stare down at the madness under the bridge.

A large pitcher plant has grown out of the soil, using roots like giant spider legs to pull itself out of the ground and slightly above it. The lip of the Mordrem has a circle of teeth opening and closing like the monster was breathing. She swore she could even feel and smell its breathing, the stink of it worse then any spider cave. The body was a dark purple, the lid a bright gold in contrast. There didn't seem to be enough liquid in it to drown her like the plant does normally, but it was so dark inside she was still unsure. As with all Mordrem, it seemed to be in a decay, with the liquid inside draining out yet never running out.

The sight of the monster filled her with even more cold dread and she began to get tears in her eyes once more. "DDK," she cried "Saint, whoever you are, don't take me away. I don't want to be some mindless slave for Mordremoth." She held her face in her hands and sobbed loudly.

"Mindless?" He scoffs "More like all knowing! She will give you your greatest desire in exchange for your loyalty. How can you pass that up? Infinite power in our hands." He trails off as he takes a tentative step toward the edge, then rushes back with a shudder. "Between you and me though, I am not gonna like the jump." He looks down at Angel and smiles darkly "Why don't you go first? Test the weather for me."

Angel backs up as fast as she can, but the Planste slows her down. Saint reaches down and grabs her now monsterless ankle, grimacing at the slime. He then drags her close and grabs her arms with one hand while the other wraps around her neck. Carrying her bridal style, albeit more painful for her, he stands over the Mordrem Pitchiaric. "Sorry" He whispers into her ear "but this saint needs a guardian angel." And after a bit of flourish he drops her screaming into the open jaws of the beast.

He stands there for a moment savoring Angel's screams before the the mouth of the Mordrem closes. Then he slowly brings a hand to his face, falls back, and laughs gleefully on the ground rolling side to side. "Saint with a guardian Angel. Hahaha! Not this one!" He stays there on the ground till he feels he can be serious then marches swiftly out of the pink pollen.

Hills looks very different outside the hallucinogenic mist. Lord's room looks absolutely infested with Mordrem, with Husks outside and Wolves trotting to and fro. The towers on either side don't look much better as vines have spiraled up and down them, tearing holes in the flags and giving the Teragriff a perfect climb to the top of them. Many of the bricks are out of place and holes are shown on every wall from Mordrem Slinger's target practice. Some of the Henge of Denravi defense team lie dead, scattered around or in the arms of cleaning Husks, unable to pay away there death with a waypoint thanks to Mordrem Vines crushing the waypoints.

And yet with all the carnage there is still a sense of civilization. Mordrem Menders have basically sealed off the area around Lord's crater, making it an area for the others to be healed; from minor scrapes to limb loss. They treated it all with motherly affection, humming quietly for their patients. The Teragriff have climbed the leftmost tower and built their nests there, leaves scattered around, the females and males both flying on full grown wings or lying together if they haven't got them. The wolves are running underneath the bridge on the cliffside watching and playing with the pups. When they notice Saint looking down they all sit and howl almost as a salute. Smiling, he howls along with them, their music filling the canyon walls. Afterwards he turns toward the walls where the Thrashers stand like statues along the perimeter. Even without eyes they can see farther than any scout.

A Husk with a Norn body in his arms marches along the bridge next to him, so he decides to chat. "How goes the fight at the Southern Camps?" He asks. The creature makes a slight grunt in dissatisfaction. "Not good?" he wonders for a second "I might need to punish Lagneia when this is all said and done." He smiles gleefully. "That would be fun for her." The Husk grunts again. He tries once more with another question. "Have you collected any Sylvari still alive?" A third grunt, this one in a slightly higher pitch to signify yes. Saint quickly realizes once more that conversations with Husks are restricted to yes or no. He waves goodbye and walks away.

He turns to the right of the bridge and off to the side balcony overlooking the canyon. There the Husks have piled the bodies along with tons of sticks and leaves. A mender takes a small torch and begins smacking it against a rock in a weak attempt to light it. Kneeling down to the small creature's height, saint takes the torch with a pat on the head. Lighting it with a flint and steel and holding it above the pile he relishes the moment. The entire army has their eyes on him and they are all cheering in their own ways, Wolves howling and Teragriff roaring. The world seems to be be still for him and he pulls his arm back to throw the torch in but stops.

His guild, his friends, are in that pile somewhere, and while their betrayal stung, he couldn't erase their memories. He stands there confused on what to do. He looks back at the torch and stares deeply into the flames. The army quiets around him as he holds it up to the sky. Suddenly he screams in anger and throws the torch as far as it can go off the side. Then he draws his sword and swings it in a downward arch against the railing. It shatters cleanly in two echoing off the walls.

He looks dumbstruck at the sword but eventually puts it in the sheath. Then he falls to his knees and cries. The Mordrem look at one another, unsure on what to do, until a single solitary pup with a gold flower steps close to Saint's still form on the ground. Licking his hand it lies down next to him and whines.

He grabs the puppy and holds it close. It laps at his face, licking away the tears, as he slowly gets off the ground. "You will not burn these bodies." He murmurs darkly "You will bury them like they were more important than your own lives." He looks around for a spot to do it, but everywhere seems to have Mordrem. He looks to the heavens for an answer and spots just that. A small ledge just below the right tower is untouched by vines and Mordrem alike. "You will bury them there, and you will not do anything to that spot. It is now forbidden land. Is that understood?" Saint shouts at the amassed Mordrem. They all nod as one, and he smiles slightly. "Then spread the word amongst your kin. Anyone I see standing there I will show no mercy towards. Not Zhaitan's corruption, not Jormag's icebrood."

He turns away from them and prepares to run. "I am going to assist Pycha at the Asuran Gates. I expect the job to be done." Then he takes off, leaving for the Gates at Lion's Arch, where Pycha has taken her post.

His greed may demand he has all he deserves, but burning the bodies won't bring him the happiness he wants. His revenge will come when the dragon's destruction of the world leaves it a clean slate for the Sylvari to rule. This saint will be considered a God amongst all.

 **And there you have it. Mordremoth, with the help of a few Sylvari, has successfully gotten a foothold in the HoD Borderlands. Soon all of the Mists will be the dragons for the taking. This is my first story so any advice would be appreciated, just don't be a dick about it.**


	2. Saint's Prisoner

**Didn't expect to write this chapter but I guess I just felt like it. Too much Creativity in my mind. Hope you enjoy this one.**

The trek across the Borderlands was mostly uneventful for Saint. None were there to ambush him after all, all dead at Mordrem hands. He almost wished now that he had rode his Teragriff here, what with her adept climbing abilities, but she seemed so happy to rest at the Hills he couldn't bring himself to do it. Exercise never hurt anybody anyway.

So after scaling the cliffs of snow, he came upon the scene at the Stronghold. Vines have sprouted in a lot more places here, swarming out of the frigid earth and collapsing entire buildings. Bodies have been impaled on these spiraling vines, including the supposedly immortal "Legendary Defenders". All of their ranks lie broken on the floor, the first to die to stop them from killing Saint's army.

But it wasn't that which drew his eye. It was the Asuran Gates, surrounded on all sides by an insane amount of Mordrem. Menders on the backs of Husks, Wolves sitting patiently for a chance to attack, Thrashers stock still staring at the purple hue of the portal with sightless eyes, and Teragriff with their wings held down in a constant threatening position.

Standing in front of these beasts on a platform of vines is a lone female sylvari with a large Mordrem rifle in her hands. She stares at the portals endlessly, her gaze never wavering. Her attire consists of a modified tier 1 medium armor, with less spikes on her shoulders, instead having bandoliers with the dangerous seeds that explode into the clouds of choking spores she loves so much. The helm is strange as well, the spines on the sides being replaced with purple flowers just above either ear. The boots have small spurs made of tri blade thorns on the back and the top part of each boot holds another ring of seedlings.

Pushing his way through the ranks, he takes his side by her, not daring to strike up conversation and ruin her concentration. Eventually she takes a moment to rest and Saint taps her softly on the shoulder.

Surprised, she quickly brings her rifle around to stab him in the throat with the bayonet. In one quick action Saint brings his hand up and takes the rifle from her. "Oh Pycha, when will you learn." He spins the gun a few times, then hands it back to her. She snatches the glowing orange weapon back, then holsters it.

"Don't sneak up on me like that, you aren't a thief so stop acting like it." She snarls, then goes back to staring at the Gates. The gentle shimmer they create seems to calm her down. "Pity that we still need to wait for the other Borderlands to be captured before we can do anything aye?"

Saint nods and opens his mouth to respond when the shimmering of the gates stops abruptly. The entire Mordrem army goes still as the gate begins to pass many people through.

The first of the soldiers form a line along in front of the roaring group of Mordrem, then the second group forms another, and it repeats until the entire army of Lionguard is through. A single Asuran marches forward carrying a flag of black with a white dove on top and shouts as loud as she can above the Mordrem. "I wish to speak with any leaders for Mordremoth. If there is one here who fits this description, please step forward or we will cut you all down like the lawless freaks you are."

Glancing at Pycha, Saint jumps off the platform and stands directly opposite of the Asuran. "You are all fools," he addresses the Lionguard in front of him "Fools to fight the dragons, fools to attempt to kill Zhaitan, He Who Shaped Life. And now you attempt to kill Mordremoth, She Who Shaped The Surface. I beg of you to cease your resisting and seek shelter instead of fight." He pauses to look through the enemy's ranks. "I notice Sylvari among your ranks. No doubt they have heard rumors of our past. Well my brothers and sisters, it is all true. We are the champions of Mordremoth, stolen away from her sanctuary by a lowly human and lied to by a deceitful centaur." He watches the Sylvari glance at their comrades and smiles. The seed of doubt has been sown. "Mordremoth understands her childrens blight and wishes to cure you from it. Throw down your arms and stand aside, and I nor the Mordrem will harm you." He backs away from the Lionguard and watches as Sylvari look to their leaders for a reason not to give in.

A charr in solid gold armor steps forward and shouts at the now shaken army. "Do not listen to this ones lie's. He is weak to believe a Dragon. They will show us no mercy should we surrender. We are the last line of defense before these monstrosities breach the safety of the newly rebuilt Lion's Arch. We die here, so to will everyone else back home. Fight not just for your lives, but for the lives of your loves, your city, Your Land!" He roars loudly at the sky, and the charr assembled roar along with him. The roars almost cover the sound of Pycha firing a shot down the Charr's throat.

At first he stands there dumbstruck at the feeling in his throat. Then the seed explodes with a slight hiss and choking spores cover his respiratory system. He falls to the ground clutching his throat and gagging for three minutes before going limp.

The assembled Lionguard stand stunned at the body as Saint speaks again. "This is the death that awaits those that defy the Elder Dragons. Do not suffer the same fate. Lay down your arms and surrender yourselves to us." The Mordrem roar in triumph and the Lionguard quake in fear, yet none move to drop weapons or retreat. Saint scowls at them "Very well," he screams, "You have chosen Death. May whatever God you believe in have mercy on you all." He brings his warhorn to his lips and plays it in five quick beats, signalling the charge.

As the Mordrem swarm to kill the Lionguard, Saint rushes back to Pycha's stand. patting her on the back softly, he smiles. "Nice shot, sweetness."

She scoffs at the name. "All my shots are great. Don't get it twisted." Eventually Saint shrugs, takes off his bow Mianach and begins firing as well.

Soon the only ones left were the Sylvari who actually set their weapons down when the fighting started. Pycha is the first down this time, with her rifle pointed at the nearest one. "Cowards, all of you! I should end you now. We have no use for weak in this army."

Saint quickly grabs her rifle away from her. "Quit acting foolish! We need all we can get." He grasps the hand of the nearest Lionguard and hoists him to his feet. "I apologize for my associates behavior, she lets pride shroud her judgement sometimes. Please, walk with me, all of you." He walks back away to the south of the Gates, where the vines have climbed the pillars and turned the inside to a small jungle. Taking a seat on one of the vines, he motions for others to do the same. Thirteen Sylvari in total, two rangers, three elementalists, two mesmers, four necromancers, a thief and a guardian all sit down.

He notices their worried looks at the vines and Thrashers and calmly says "They will not harm you so long as you do nothing to harm us. You need not fear us." He waves a hand toward a Mender, who leaves and after a short delay brings back a orange-red liquid in fifteen cups. Grabbing his, a cup encrusted with a gold ring, he downs some of the drink and smiles at the others. "Not poison. If you need me to prove it I will gladly drink from your cups as well." Eventually they drink from their cups and sit waiting for some sort of ill effects. When none came, some began to enjoy the drink, one even going so far as to find his voice.

"Thank you so much for the drink sir. What is it?" He shrinks back ever so slightly as Saint bursts up laughing almost childishly. "Did…Did I say something funny sir?" He asks meekly.

"How long have you been alive my friend?" Saint asks after a short time.

"I...I was born during the Cycle of Dawn…About five years and some months ago." He answers softly and flinches as both Saint and Pycha burst into laughter.

"You are older me, and yet you can't tell Apple Juice when you see it?!" Saint's laughter roars above Pycha's and soon the other sylvari join in, laughing at the absurdity of the conversation.

"So I can only assume you have heard the rumors of how we are the champions of Mordremoth?" Saint asks once the conversations lull. The assembled Sylvari nod in near-unison. "And I guess you also know that the Seed of the Pale Tree was found by a human surrounded by 'Terrible Plant Creatures' that we now know as Mordrem?" The Sylvari nod once more.

"Then surely you can draw the comparison! If the Pale Tree was found in a cave guarded by Mordrem, then that means we ARE Mordrem. Wouldn't you say so? The only thing that changed who we are is where we grew. We did not grow under Mother's watchful gaze as we were supposed to. We were instead robbed of our destiny by a man you might know well as Ronan. We were destined to be stronger than Norn, smarter than Asura, and faster than Charr, but he planted our seed in unhealthy soil so we could not be as powerful as our True Mother wanted. Yet she has taken pity on us, and has promised she would give us the power we were robbed of. Who among you will take up her offer and gain power above all our siblings?"

They look at one another and begin murmuring to one another. Eventually the first one Saint talked with says "We would like some time to talk about it alone. But first, what will happen if we refuse your offer?" The others tense up as Pycha growls lowly at them but the one who spoke stands as firm as he can be.

"Well," Saint brings his hand to his chin in a mock thinking pose. "My guess is we would let you go back through the portal. After all, they will be gone soon." He stands and motions for Pycha to do the same. "We will give you the privacy you asked for." They leave the room and vines close around the entry.

Bringing Pycha around to the crafting benches, Saint pulls out his broken sword. "You think you can fix this?"

Pycha looks at the shattered blade in disgust. "Which one is this? Ba Mhaith or Ní mór?" She takes the hilt and scowls. "Nevermind, I don't care." She sets it on an anvil, then she looks at him as if expecting something. "I can't fix it without the other half of the blade stupid."

Saint smiles despite the anger he is feeling. "I should have thought of that. You are soooo smart. Strange considering who was given the knowledge here. Wasn't that…ME?" He allows his anger to boil over as he shoves the other half of the sword into her open hand. "Now fix the Blade or I will have to show you that just because you think you are the strongest or the smartest doesn't mean you ARE." He walks to the door, but stops to tell Pycha "I am going to take any sylvari who wish to join us back home. You stay here and tidy up."

He returns to the building with the other sylvari who have all now shushed their arguments. "So," he claps his hands together and rubs them vigorously. "Who has decided to listen to their mind and regain control over their lives?"

The one who spoke before who was laughed at is the first to speak. "I have decided I do not wish to join Mordremoth, no matter what it claims to be." Soon others, some even breathing sighs of relief when nothing happens to them, join him till all but two remain.

Saint looks at these two. "And what do you wish?"

One stands and wordlessly joins the others, signaling through action that he wishes to leave as well. Saint sighs and turns to leave when the last one, a Guardian, pipes up. "I wish to join you with Her. Not for the power, but so I can learn the truth."

Saint turns to her and nearly jumps for joy. "You will not regret it. I swear all your questions will be answered and all your fears will be gone." He turns to the others. "As for the rest of you, my Mender; the one with the golden eyes, will escort you out." The Mender at the door makes a slight noise between a squeak and a grunt and walks toward the Asuran Gates, with the Sylvari in tow.

"As for you, follow me." Saint gestures for her to follow, then leads her away through the many Mordrem outside.

"What cycle were you born to Miss…" He frowns and trails off to leave the question open for her to answer.

"Zustatek. My name is Zustatek and I was born during the cycle of Dusk. About one year ago." Zustatek takes a look at the Mordrem going about their lives. "So this is what Mordrem do when they aren't at war?"

Saint stops briefly to look at the Mordrem as well. "Why wouldn't they? Not all creatures you fight are animals. I can only imagine this is how all the armies of the dragons act."

Surprised at the newcomer, many Mordrem wolves have crowded around Zustatek, whining and growling at her every move. Reaching down, Saint grasps hold of the nearest one and whispers soothingly "Say hello to a new friend little one. She will be going home with us."

The Mordrem cease their growling and whimpering and sit patiently at her feet. Cautiously and fearfully, she brings her hand down to let them sniff.

They crowd around her hand and lick over and over. Zustatek giggles happily as they crowd around her happily, playing with each other. "They are just like our Sylvan Hounds!"

Saint smiles, "They are Sylvan Hounds my dear. They just don't look the same." He thinks for a moment. "How would you like to see how we got here? Maybe you and I can go see Mother then."

She takes her eyes off the Mordrem Wolves, much to their disappointment, and stares at Saint. "You want to take me to see Mordremoth? But..I...um..Am I ready for it? Do I need to be stronger? Do I need anything?" She begins rambling off many things she fears Mordremoth will not like about her.

Saint quickly silences her. "Mordremoth will love you. She loves all her children, even those who don't know the truth." He suddenly takes off into a run, beckoning for Zustatek to follow.

Leading her away from the Stronghold, he goes down the cliff face and to the Garrison. There the Mordrem were first brought in, using Pitchiaric to find ways inside the large area and it clearly shows. Large holes are everywhere, showing where the Pitchiaric dug out of the ground to let the Mordrem swarm, as well as where they disappeared back to when the fighting started.

"What did all this?" She asked as she stepped dangerously close to one of the holes but seeing nothing.

Saint beckons for her to follow him through the gates of vine and the Husk guards to the edge of the Vista. Then he brings his warhorn to his lips and blows six short notes.

The ground erupts in noise as the same Mordrem Pitchiaric to kidnap Angel erupts from the ground just below the vista. It hangs above the water, just barely touching it. The gold lid that covered the mouth as it dug now stands high, showing off the creature's large teeth.

Zustatek cowers at the sight of the monster and screams. "What is that thing!?" She backs as far away from the edge as she can and hides behind a rock in fear.

Saint flinches at her reaction and kneels down in front of her. "You need not fear it. It is one of the few Mordrem that doesn't do any harm no matter what. It is only a transporter, like the Dredge ones. It digs through the soil and drops off any Mordrem inside to the surface. It follows the Ley Lines that connect everything in the world. With these we can reach anywhere, though up till now they were a secret." He sighs. "Nothing seems to stay secret for long, does it?"

She slowly shakes off the sudden fear and looks at the beast. "This will take us out of the Mists? Are you sure it is safe?" She stares at the teeth of the beast and shudders as it breathes.

"Safer than trying to find your way out yourself, that's for sure." He looks at her with a bit of pity. "I understand it is hard to trust someone you were just fighting, but you have my word and my life that if any Mordrem harm you, they will not survive to do more. You will be treated as a queen to them, as soon as we are safe in the Maguuma Jungle." He grins as he says, "If you are harmed, I hope Grenth himself comes to take my soul to the burning pits of the Underworld."

Grasping her hand softly, he pulls her toward the edge. "We will jump together." He whispers to her with a determined look. She shivers but holds firm. "One," he takes a step and she does the same. "Two," another step, this one at the same time. "Three!" Together they jump toward the edge, the Pitchiaric shifting position to catch them easily and they sink into darkness. Zustatek's screams echo off the walls of the Garrison from inside the beast before it's jaw closes and she and Saint leave the Mists to the Jungle, where the Heart lies.

 **Now we have a newcomer to the Reborn. The Pitchiaric is also my explanation for how the Mordrem found the mists. Maybe it can't work, but the Icebrood have found it too so why can't another dragon. I probably won't continue this story but if I can think of where else to go I will write it into a third chapter.**


	3. Saint's Prophet

**This story just doesn't want to end! I keep writing new chapters and It feels crazy. I guess it doesn't matter though. Hope you enjoy ANOTHER chapter to this story. As before I own nothing out of the story except for the seven sylvari and Zustatek.**

Zustatek had no idea how long she must be in that Mordrem's stomach but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Despite her worries, the Pitchiaric seemed to have mushrooms and moss inside that shined whenever she touched them so she was never in danger of being attacked in the darkness. Saint even let her keep her weapons, which she was grateful toward.

All throughout the journey Saint told her stories that he said not even Asuran or the Priory knew about the history of Tyria. About how Dragons were once alongside the Great Giants and even became the Dominant species after their extinction. Then the Forgotten arrived and said they were sent by the True Gods to bring new life to Tyria. The Dragons did not see the threat, as very few could match the powers of the Dragons. with the exception of the Forgotten's Gods, and they slowly grew accustomed to the many new races, fighting with them for land and making peace to stop bloodshed. They were a force to be feared until Humans were created by the gods. These Gods gave them the power they needed to sweep across the land, and when the cursed one called Abaddon gave them magic, the Dragons truly realized their danger. By then it was too late.

The Humans destroyed many of the more powerful races like the Jotun and gained more and more power. The Dragons feared for the world and began to do everything they could to stop the growth of these monsters. They went to the Gods of the Humans and asked them to take back the magic they gave out, for magic was not meant for such lesser creatures. But the Gods did not listen to their pleas and instead began to attack the dragons. While the dragons fought back, the power of Man was too strong and the amount of them was too much, so they went underground and into a slumber, vowing one day to return and reshape the world the way it was made to look, without the scourge of Man.

"Dwarves didn't see the Dragons side to the story, thinking of them as little more than monsters. But when you have seen your friends and family slaughtered and you must wait a few hundred thousand years to get revenge." Saint says "You can imagine how much hatred the Dragons must feel toward any creature not of their of kind."

Zustatek sat pondering these words for a while before she came to her questions. "Why do the Dragons fight the other races of Tyria if all they really want is the death of Man?" She asked "Why must they corrupt creatures to get their revenge and why are they destroying so much?"

Saint smiles slightly as he says, "Only one of the dragons fully corrupts his subjects, and that is only because it is hard to control a non-alive being. It is much easier to turn a creature to your will then it is to create new ones. Zhaitan corrupt the dead and bring them back because he has a huge amount of magic stored under Orr, and even more coming in from Ley Lines. Primordius can create his own subjects due to him being so close the the core of the world and the energy it produces. Jormag and Kralkatorrik must use the energy of the living to corrupt their subjects, especially the latter. He gave so much power to Glint the Betrayer that he was very weak when he went to reclaim it. It is why he hides away now."

"What of Mordremoth? What is its..." she stops, afraid at what she just said but when nothing happens she continues. "What is her source of power?"

"The Ley Lines and the Jungle. Not only does the Maguuma have a great many sources of energy, like the plants and animals, it also has a few hidden artifacts."

Before she can continue with more questions, the Pitchiaric suddenly let out a quiet almost painful-sounding groan and the lid slowly came off the mouth. Blinded by the sudden light, Zustatek covers her eyes with a hand and by the time she takes it away Saint has already gotten out and taken a stand next to the mouth of the door.

"Zustatek," he says with contained excitement, "Welcome to the Heart of Thorns." He reaches down and takes her hand gently, pulling her towards the open air that smelled of a forest and the sounds of many birds and bugs.

The Heart wasn't as thorny as the name suggests. Rather it is an entire city under a vast canopy of branches covered in flowers and leaves. Many of these flowers swayed as if pushed by a wind that wasn't even there. Many Mordrem were walking around as if living lives outside of the wars, some she had never even seen fight before. The Mordrem stopped and stared as Saint lead her through the winding vine paths downward, past the ancient plants that could never have grown without other influences. Pines next to Palms, Cacti as tall as Redwoods, so many different and giant flora in one area, and at the center of it all a statue made entirely out of different petals and leaves depicting Mordremoth alongside seven Sylvari in different armor.

Mordremoth towers above the sylvari; they barely even reach her ankles! Her wings almost reached out of the canopy. Her body seems to be made of a twisted branches and roots, not very different from the Shadow of the Dragon. The scales along her underbelly are made of light green leaves, her body a darker shade. The wings were made of many different colored feathers, ranging from bright pink parrot feathers to jet black of crows and they all seemed to glow in the sunlight. The entire thing looked very different from the many pictures she had seen of the other dragons. It felt more feminine. The snout was more curved, the body more lean, and the tail was more thin than Zhaitan's. Yet she still seemed just as threatening, her tail brought back in a whip-like fashion, her teeth formed into a triumphant smirk, her head held high. Strangely she didn't seem to have any razor sharp talons on her feet, her legs simply disappearing into the ground on roots.

What scared and intrigued Zustatek most however was her eyes. Her eyes were a piercing blue, a stern gaze and yet a loving one simultaneously. The gaze of a mother.

Saint apparently doesn't want her standing around however and after the brief stop he takes off running again, dragging her along like a child in a sweet shop. It does allow her to see the bottom of the jungle, where the many animals of the jungle roam. Deer graze peacefully in meadows, tigers sneaking up on them. It seemed so strange to her that a world of Plant monsters can live just above a world of animals.

"Saint!" A highly feminine voice shouts from somewhere above. As Zustatek looks for the source a sudden flash of light appears in front of her and Saint is thrown on the ground by an attacker. Frightened, Zustatek draws her mace and backs away with her shield up expecting to be attacked as well. When nothing happens however, she lowers her shield slightly and looks at Saint.

He has his arms around this second sylvari, and as she stares he slowly gets up with her in his arms. "Zustatek," he smiles to her, "Meet Caru, my love and the sixth of the Reborn, I myself being the first."

The sylvari looks at Zustatek with surprise, "Oh my, a visitor!" She purrs "Saint you are just splendid at convincing our siblings of the truth." She kisses Saint on the cheek, then turns her attention back to Zustatek. "And what is your name miss?"

Zustatek looks at her suspiciously. Her skin is a magenta color, her eyes bright pink and stern. She stands at five feet six inches, eleven inches below Saint. She wears armor similar to the Snapdragon armor, but it also seems more revealing. The dress barely reaches her knees but keeps the look of the default armor. Her gloves don't cover her forearm instead stopping at the wrist. The top covering her chest is a lighter shade of purple then her skin. Her boots are almost like high heels with thorns holding them slightly off the ground. Her armor consists of different shades of pink, purple, and red.

"My name is Zustatek." She says softly. She puts the mace and shield back on her person, but keeps her hand at the ready.

Taking no notice Caru claps in delight. "Wonderful name! A bit unorthodox for a Sylvari, but beautiful none the less." She turns to Saint and whispers into his ear, but makes it loud enough for Zustatek to hear anyway. "Your Angel is back home, just as you requested."

He smiles and says to Zustatek "Well Zustatek I am afraid I must say goodbye. Do not worry, Caru will accompany you to Mother's shrine to be reborn. I have matters I must to attend to." He bows low to her then, when she refuses to move, waves his hand in a shooing motion.

Caru begins walking away, and slowly Zustatek follows. After a while she turns back to see him gone, possibly jumping over the side of the path to one of the many others below.

"He always enjoys dramatic exits." Caru sighs when Zustatek asks her where he went. "He is just going home." She winks to Zustatek, "I left him a present there." She turns down a steep downward sloped vine that leads into a cave in the side of the earth.

The cave has the same Mushrooms as the Pitchiaric. They twinkle on the ceiling like stars, lighting the path in blue brilliance. The sound of drips echo through the cave, and sometimes they must duck under the roots of larger trees to get to their destination.

After roughly fifteen minutes of twists and turns, a light appears at the end of the tunnel. Caru suddenly speeds up, saying "I never liked the darkness. I hope it is no trouble if we pick up the pace." Eventually they reached the end of the tunnel and Zustatek gaped at the sight ahead.

Sunlight was shining down in rays through a large hole in the roof and at the middle of all the light, soaking it up in a variety of leaves, was a Pale Tree, not any different from the one in the Grove although smaller. There doesn't seem to be an Avatar for this tree, yet Caru still beckons to her, climbing up to the top of the tree where normally the Avatar would be.

Caru disappears from sight at the top and when Zustatek arrives she is kneeling in front of a row of flowers, specifically a pink one. The row had eight flowers all in a linear line, one on the far left new and young, and in the center stood a large white flower.

"Is that the Avatar of Mordremoth?" She asked after Caru finished her 'prayer', pointing to the flower.

"In a way. We speak to the flower in a prayer and usually she will respond, though not with words. You will see." Caru fixes her hair, which fell into her face while kneeling. "Please stand directly in front of the flower so we may begin."

"Will it hurt? The Rebirth?" Zustatek asks as she sits on her legs in front of the flower.

"Not at all Zustatek." She pauses for a second, "Well I don't know. The only one who got hurt was Mally, but that was because she was sore from the massive strength she was given. We will heal you in any and every way we can if you are hurt." She rubs her hand on Zustatek's shoulder soothingly. "Just let me start my part. You just sit there."

Closing her eyes to help her stay calm, she listens as Caru's words. "Oh Sweet Mother, please allow your guidance to seep into the mind of this wayward soul. Please, for the sake of the many Mordrem and the lost sylvari, allow her to lead our kin to their truth, as we have to her. Mother, make her strong to carry out your wishes, make her wise enough to think of her own. Give her the power she needs to lead the sylvari to a new age. One free of pain and strife. One free of death and chaos. One free of the scourge of man."

Suddenly a sharp pain erupts from the back of Zustatek's head. She shrieks as she feels something dig deep into her skull before it drains all feeling and she passes out, her energy suddenly gone. As she falls to the ground, she feels as if there is no ground to catch her, and she continues falling forever.

With suddenness her descent comes to a halt in on a single platform made of blue flowers. Terrified, she calls out for Caru, Saint, anybody but no one answers. Slowly and carefully she stands, looking in circles for any way off where she is now.

In a blinding flash of sunlight the leaves above her move and she sees fully where she is. The Dream stands before her, although she is not in it. She feels more like it is a window, where she can see the inhabitants, just not interact with them. Suddenly the Shadow of the Dragon awakens, rising out of the ground before a gathered group of ghostly Sylvari. However instead of attacking the dragon, the Sylvari erupt in cheers, happy to see the monster.

" _This is my dream"_ A voice echoes in Zustatek's mind _"A time where my children do not fear or hate me, but love me as I love them. It brings no joy to see them lied to and tricked by the many races, to see them destroy the world I tried to build for them."_

Zustatek looks at the Dragon sitting in front of her and asks "Why must you kill so many of us?"

The voice sighs, low and long. _"I do not wish to, but you leave me no choice. You slaughter my soldiers and you wish to destroy me as you did my brother. I fear you, little one, yet I love all of you too."_

Zustatek begins to feel bad for this voice, realizing it to be Mordremoth, thinking of how a mother must feel to be attacked by her own children. "I wish to help you. I wish to learn what we have missed by not growing with you. I wish to join the Reborn, Mordremoth."

" _I am glad to hear it little one. Why do you wish to join them however?"_

The question catches Zustatek off guard. "I want to help you. I want to help my people. I want to know why you fight us. I want to be fighting for a good cause."

Mordremoth's voice takes a while to answer. Zustatek can feel Mordremoth sifting through her memories. _"You are pure; more pure of heart than most who come to my aid. I will gladly give you what you seek and more. I believe you will do great things for our kin, Mordrem and Sylvari alike. For this I must ask of you something I was afraid to ask the others."_ She pauses as if to think over what she is about to say. _"Zustatek, will you lead the Reborn to victory?"_

Zustatek is surprised by this offer, not thinking herself a leader. "Why can't the others do it? Surely one of the first of the Reborn is more qualified than I?"

" _Many of them have great weakness they can not overcome. Yet I can sense none of them on you. It brings me hope in your abilities."_

Zustatek feels pride build in her, but also a sense of dread. "What if I fail you? I do not want to let you down!"

" _So eager to help, yet so afraid to fail. Do not worry little Zusta, I have faith you will not fail me. I give you one of my greater gifts, one I haven't even given my strongest."_

Suddenly the entire Dream wavers and dims. _"I fear my time with you is fading. When you awaken your fellow Reborn will help you with anything you need, and you will lead them to power."_ The Dragon roars as it disappears from her vision. _"Never be afraid Zustatek, for I will always live on in you. I will always be here to help you."_

Awakening from the Dream Zustatek finds herself inside a small pod inside the Tree's canopy. Suddenly the pod bursts and she falls to the ground, landing on the soft grass below as if it was waiting to catch her.

Her mind is filled with new knowledge. Knowledge of the past, of the legends throughout time. She hears them speaking to her, whispering their abilities and benefits to her. She gasps as she feels the power coursing through her veins. She has been Reborn as the Revenant.

Lifting herself off the earth, she stares at the seven Sylvari standing across from her with shocked or pleased faces. Suddenly Saint steps forward away from Caru and pulls Zustatek off the ground, dusting her off. "Well done Zustatek." He whispers. Then he backs away swiftly and surprises Zustatek by bowing low to her. The rest follow his example.

She looks over the soldiers in front of her. "Who are all of you?"

Saint looks up and smiles. "I never introduced you to them all, did I?" He stands and walks down the line, pointing to each as he does.

"This is Ead. He is in charge of maintaining Jungle order. " He points to the first sylvari in the line, a thief three inches shorter then him. He doesn't move his head at the mention of his name, but Zustatek can tell he is listening by the way his body tenses slightly. He wears Tier two sylvari armor with no noticeable changes to it except for the THOUSANDS of throwing knives on his person. The armor is a camouflage color. His skin is a dark, almost black, green and his eyes are a piercing emerald color. He has two daggers on either side. "I am ready to show them the true meaning of fear." He says in a voice barely above a whisper.

"This 'fine specimen', as the asuran would say, is Mally." Saint moves on to a warrior standing two inches above him in dull orange and wine colored tier two heavy armor. She herself has orange skin. The frills on the helm are gone, replaced with extra padding and a single spike in the middle. Underneath the helm Zustatek can see Mally's spiny hair trying to pierce the helm. The boots have emblems engraved in them, runes that Zustatek can't understand. On her back she has a large Mordrem Great-sword without the blue glow. Her eyes are a glowing light red. "I am your muscle." She states in a voice very deep for a woman.

"Next there is Feargach, our elementalist. He can be a bit hot-headed at times, but I trust him with my life. However valuable that is." Saint slaps the mentioned elementalist on the back, laughing. He grumbles something under his breath, but Saint doesn't mind. His skin is apple red and his eyes are honey. His hair is made out of branches, with leaves growing off them. He wears the Dryad armor but it is so different Zustatek had to take time to notice the similarities. On his shoulders the leafs have been replaced by what looks to be dragon heads made crudely out of wood. The front leggings are spiked. The belt has four gems on each corner in the colors of red, blue, brown, and purple. His boots are also made of what looks like wood. He stands one inch above Saint "I cannot wait to see our enemies fall at our feet." He says to her, anger evident in his voice.

"And finally there is Ocras, who is the damn best sylvari chef I have ever met. And not a bad fighter to boot!" He pats Ocras on the back, who is gleaming at the praise. His armor has the same form as the Orchid dyed black, but it does not have the regular wings on the back. Instead it has wings similar to the statue of Mordremoth. His skin is white and his eyes are a dark blue. His hair is held back in a pony tail, and Zustatek can tell she has never seen it before, meaning it must be self style. He looks up at her and to Zustatek he seems to have a insanity he is holding back, not like Saint's calm insanity he tends to always show. He stands five inches below Saint "I am ready to close the jaws on our enemy, ma'am."

"And of course you have met the rest. We are all ready for you to lead us Zustatek. You are the one who will show the world that the dragons are the heroes." Saint says to her as he stands next to his friends in a line. As one they say "Lead us Zustatek."

Stunned she stutters "I don't know if I can lead. I will need all of your help if I am to do anything."

The Sylvari smile as they stop bowing and Saint steps toward her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You will make a fine leader; Mother believes in you, and so to shall we. We will be here for you."

The others erupt in cheers and lead her through the cave once more. The Mordrem of the area also cheer when she makes her way out of the cavern and she feels happy. Getting caught up in the excitement she grabs her staff off her back and holds it above her, shouting, "I will lead you all to victory! For Mother!" The Mordrem cheer louder than before and even the Jungle seems alive. The flowers bloom and the trees bend to see this new leader and give her their blessing.

She feels alive leading these creatures and she knows deep in her heart that as long as she lives, Mordremoth will not fall. The whole world will know the truth of the Sylvari, and rejoice. She has been given a powerful gift among the other sylvari. She has been given an army to lead. She will not squander this gift.


	4. Saint's Army

**Seriously my trial is gonna run out, I can't upload anything else maybe. Hope you enjoy. This is not canon. (Obviously. It would be amazing if Anet would notice my story, but I can't set my hopes too high.)  
**

"Not much of a foothold, but it will have to do." Zustatek whispered as she looked at the map of the surrounding area placed on a table under a Vine platform. Three months have passed since her rebirth and the Mordrem have destroyed the defense of the Silverwastes, the Vinewrath fully grown and destructive. They had then sweeped across Brisban until they stopped at Fort Salma. They had split their forces into three groups to attack the major cities but the combined Sylvari, Asuran, and Human forces were causing serious problems, and the Reborn didn't have the forces to attack the major cities.

Zustatek has changed her armor greatly to suit her new Revenant abilities. Instead of having a plant-based look like the other Reborn, she is clad in Oaken armor that gives a more stone feel, with it being smooth on the right and spiked on the left. Thanks to the power she gained from Mordremoth, she does not need to shroud her eyes to gain full power.

"Not much of a foothold?" Pycha scoffed to her right, "We are one fourth of the way across Tyria! Three cities are within our grasp! How is this not good?" She leans back in her chair content.

"We were supposed to be across Viathan Lake by now Pycha. Fearg and Ocras were supposed to get their army to Rata Sum to destroy it. Now we are being attacked all across Brisban due to their failure and we still need to hold out for more troops."

The Asurans put up a stiffer resistance than first expected, even without the help of waypoints. They used a great deal of fire to keep many of the Mordrem away. The two mordrem commanders Fearg and Ocras can't do much about them.

"So plans didn't go as planned, big deal. We are still not far from Our objective." Pycha says matter-of-factly, gesturing to herself and Zustatek.

Zustatek shrugs off the fact. They were within spitting distance of Queensdale, and soon they would launch an assault on Claypool to get the supplies they would need to further march through the Bandit Caverns to destroy Shaemoor. Then it would be as simple as waiting for Mordremoth to give them a means to get inside Divinity's Reach, be it a Shadow of the Dragon or a Vinewrath. "It still worries me. Who is to say the Asurans won't attack us while we are in Claypool?"

Pycha shrugs now. "Fearg and Laidir will keep them back. I am more worried about Saint and Caru. Those two lovebirds are dangerously close to the Grove, and they don't have many soldiers."

A mighty roar sounds overhead as a Teragriff smaller than most but with full wings flies overhead. Zustatek looks at it's back and realizes that it has a golden saddle with pouches on either side, signifying it as Saint's messenger.

Startled, Pycha falls of her chair. "I am going to kill that thing." She swears, rubbing her head.

Zustatek ignores her, instead rushing over to the beast as it lands. She unbuttons the straps on it's saddle and slides the pouches off. It sinks to the ground, grateful to be rid of the burden.

Zustatek brings the two pouches to Pycha. She opens one carefully "One is full of papers. Probably maps, weak points in Divinity they could gather from the Sylvari in Caledon." She dumps them onto the table in front of her, much to the dismay of Pycha. "The other is extra troops. Strange." She gives the second pouch to her Mordrem Servant, then turns back to Pycha "You would think they need the extra troops."

Pycha looks at the pile of papers on the table with an uninterested scowl. Then her face lights up in surprise. She reaches into the pile and takes out a single letter with a pink wax seal in the shape of a rose. She hands it to Zustatek, who looks equally confused.

Tearing off the seal, she reads the letter aloud to Pycha, slowly because of the cursive writing. "Mother has decided that she is the only one fit to assault the Grove. Whether it's because of revenge or a hope to save as many as she can, I cannot say. Saint and I are coming to your position. We should be there a day after the messenger arrives with the unplanted siege weapons. See you both soon. Love Caru." She pauses as she more to read the tiny cursive at the bottom. "P.S. Don't tell Pycha. I want to surprise her!." Zustatek allows a slight smile to form. "Oops."

Pycha isn't smiling, instead adopting a thoughtful expression. "With their troops we could easily decimate all of Queensdale. It could take minutes to plant the vine seeds on each waypoint if we are quiet enough about it. Then we would have to worry about extra soldiers."

"The asuran gate in Divinity would still be active." Zustatek interrupts and points out. "Lion's Arch is still a problem now that the new defenses up."

Pycha nods softly "Yes but that could be easily destroyed once we take the city. Mother knew we weren't strong enough alone, now we have nearly double the original army. This is perfect!" She makes a slight cheering noise and throws her hands up. "We have won!"

Zustatek allows her celebration but still remembers all the many sayings she has heard. Just one battle won't win the war.

 _One Day Later_

The first hint that the reinforcements had arrived was the marching. Not the marching of hundreds of coordinated, precise soldiers in full armor but the sluggish thumps of a thousand Mordrem Husks, their footfalls overpowering anything else. It sounded like an entire forest being uprooted all at once.

Staring down from the walls, Zustatek easily spots Saint and Caru atop a Teragriff. Saint points her out and they wave to her happily. Smiling, Zustatek slightly waves back then signals to open the gates.

Pycha beckons Zustatek over as Saint and Caru ride inside, followed by the army. "Zusta, Pycha!" Caru shouts as she slides off her mount. "It is so good to see you two again."

She hugs them both then goes backward to tend to her Teragriff. Saint then walks up to them both and shakes both their hands. "So how has the fighting been going?"

"Terrible" Pycha answers grimly. "The people aren't even putting up a fight."

They all laugh at her joke as they walk towards the house dubbed the "Base of Operations." Standing over the table, Zustatek looks at the map on it and points out their attack strategy to get to Shaemoor.

Caru quickly pipes up, "Shouldn't we destroy the trading post instead of just running around it. It has a waypoint after all."

Pycha nods. "We imagined I would lead a small strike force against that. It wasn't made to stand against a couple Slingers." She knocks the small green flag over to signify it is not a problem. She had already done the same for Claypool and Altar Brook Crossing.

"You know, another good target would be the pump station. Sprinkle a little... Or maybe a lot of poison in there and Shaemoor would be severely weaker." Saint points to the small flag above the station, "Another note. Pinion Trail is so much more open and safer. Why not take that?"

"Too narrow." Zustatek murmurs. "The Caverns would and are probably going to put up a larger fight, but they are much more defendable. There is a reason the bandits have stayed there for so long."

Saint nods "So what are we waiting for?"

Pycha grunts "We were waiting for you and your extra troops. Now we can easily walk through all of Divinity's Reach."

"Oh Pycha, we don't need that." Caru says in a sing-song voice. "We just need to get the Queen. Their morale will plummet afterward. They will probably fall at our feet and beg for their lives. HA."


	5. Saint's Attack

**This is a bold stride. Attacking Divinity's Reach after swarming through the Wilds and the Hills. Thank god it is only fanfiction. It would still be cool if Anet noticed. Let's hope we can make it happen readers!.**

"Are the Mordrem ready to march on Claypool?" Zustatek asked Saint as they stood on the wall above the gate.

"All troops uprooted and ready to move at your command." Saint says in a voice very unlike his normal self. He is very clearly trying to make himself sound more like a commander. Deeper and more commanding.

"Perfect. You can lead the attack on Queensdale if you wish."

Saint smiles widely as she walks toward the stairs off the wall. Already he has begun barking orders to move out to the Mordrem. They accept his lead without question, marching slowly out the gate and into the canyon through Kessex to Claypool.

Pycha cuts off Zustatek as she walks toward her Teragriff. "You put that nutcase in charge?" She whispers, looking unsure back at Saint. "You know he doesn't lead as well as you do."

"We all have to get better Pycha." Zustatek says.

Pycha sighs and goes to gather her things from her Teragriff but Zustatek grabs her arm, not in anger, but softly to ask one last thing.

"You don't think we will need Claypool to stand, do you?"

Pycha shakes her arm free, fixing her bracer. "Why would you want to know?"

Zustatek allows a slight smile to slip onto her face, but it never reaches her eyes. "Because, when Saint is done, I doubt any of Queensdale will be standing anymore. He always hated humanity." Zustatek climbs onto her Teragriff and leads it to the back of the horde marching through the gate. Saint leaps off the outside of the wall and onto his Teragriff, obviously excited to bring the fight to the enemy.

As she enters the canyon behind them, she lets go of the reins, trusting her Teragriff to follow the one path through the canyon. She takes the time to think about what she has done.

'If someone would have come up to me and said I would be fighting the races of Tyria for the dragons, I wouldn't have believed them. I probably would have killed them, thinking they were insane. Now I know the truth. Now I have killed hundreds of people and I am on my way to kill thousands more all in the name of the true mother. Do I regret it? No.'

She suddenly says out loud to herself, "This is who I am!" The Mordrem in back turn in surprise and she finds herself blushing slightly. "Sorry. Carry on the march." They all continue to look at her, stock still.

"Did you not hear me? Why have you stopped?" Zustatek's anger flares slightly, until she looks over the heads of the army. "Oh," She says, the blush returning to her cheeks. "We are here."

She quickly rides her Teragriff through the group, snaking between many of still Mordrem before coming to the head of the army. Caru, Saint, and Pycha have already beaten her there and are now looking at the panicking town of Claypool.

"Oh this will be too easy." Saint laughs as he pulls out his sword Ba Mhaith. "Will you join me in the hunt, or may I have all the fun?" He glances at his friends, smiling as they make no move to join. "Alright! More fun for me!" He brings a warhorn and blows five quick beats, then wheels his mount toward the town and leads the charge, drawing his other sword Ní mór and holding both above his head with a triumphant roar.

"I almost feel sorry for them." Caru whispers to Zustatek. She nods in response.

Saint tramples the ranks of the men-at-arms. As they dodge out of the way of his Teragriff's paws, his swords slice through the leather armor they wear, easily dispatching them. Once he and his mount are clear of the battle, the Mordrem follow his trail, smashing the rest of the troops without any hassle.

After swinging around multiple times to cut down any stragglers, he rode back to his friends at the canyon entrance. "That was no fun." He comments, despite the huge grin on his face. "They barely even put up a fight and I was on my mount the whole time. No chance to see the fear in their eyes or feel their flesh rip. Next time I am going to take a prisoner. They would be a good distraction. I am sure I-"

Suddenly Caru leans forward off her Teragriff and kisses Saint. At first he recoils in surprise but he quickly surrenders into the kiss. When she breaks it he looks longing. "Please stop Love, you know how much I hate when you go into detail."

Saint smiles smugly. "Yes well... I don't need them to distract me when I have you Sweetness." He starts to pull her into another kiss but Pycha coughs loudly.

"If you are finished, Caru needs to go get the Trading post destroyed." She looks skeptically to Caru. "You know what to do right?"

Caru nods. "Plant the seed under the waypoint, wait for the vines to grow to full, kill everyone." She lists on her hands.

Pycha smiles. "So you aren't entirely useless." She holds up a hand before Caru can retort. "Just get going."

Flustered, Caru turns her Teragriff and leaves the town, along with fifty Mordrem. Once she has rounded the bend, Pycha sighs "I thought I would never get you two to separate." She growls.

"I am sorry we work well as a team. We are the perfect match, unlike you with literally anyone else!" Saint retorts.

"Cut it out. We need to get to Bandithaunt Caverns." Zustatek says before Pycha can say any more. "Did we lose anyone, Saint?"

"No one Commander. They were completely caught off guard." Saint begins to smile again. "I hope the bandits don't go down so easily. I would like to see them suffer."

Zustatek sighs, then turns to the Mordrem Horde. "Start marching. We move for the Caverns."

The Mordrem turn and walk out of the small square. Saint and Pycha move to the front, directing them like cattle. Zustatek frowned as she noticed. 'The Mordrem aren't that brain-dead. They have an entire civilization. Just because we can't understand them doesn't mean that they are below us. I will have to tell them to cut it out in the future.'

As they marched across the brook, surprising and pushing Skale out of their way, Saint looks toward the Trading Post. "Are you certain she might not need my help?" He asks worried.

Pycha lets out a sigh of exasperation. "Yes I am certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that she is more then capable of living half an hour without you in arms' length."

He glares at her, then returns his gaze to the east. The worry creeps into his face once more. From what can be seen, the Trading post has been almost completely toppled. The walls are missing on either side, and one of the tents have been trampled. Time to time, a Mordrem would appear through the walls.

"Saint," Zustatek says calmly, "it looks like they have won. They are just cleaning up. Be patient."

He nods glumly. He looks forward and suddenly his face lights up."Seems they are waiting for us."

The bandits have all come out of the cave and are staring at the destroyed trading post, horrified. Suddenly one screams and points at the army of Mordrem. As they notice they scream as well and run away.

"No!" Saint whines. "I want to fight, come back. I'll tie a hand behind my back, cmon!"

Zustatek giggles at his offer. "Saint look on the bright side, now the cave is clear we can march on the Reach as soon as Caru comes back."

He smirks in spite of the 'lost' fight. "Ok. Let's set up shop in these caverns


	6. Saint's Attack 2

**Just got a chance to play the new beta. Talking Mordrem. They beat me to the idea :( Also** ** **Mordremoth's male voice.** I don't think Anet will have a chance to see my story now though. I wish I would have typed this out sooner. Aw well. All I really want though is for Saint to be noticed. They don't have to attack Divinity's Reach.  
**

"Ughhh this is so boring! Where is the army waiting to ambush us? I want a fight." Saint whines as he bounces on his saddle. Caru giggles at him but composes herself.

"They are waiting in a more dependable position. Divinty's Gate is apparently very sturdy."

The march had resumed as soon as Caru got back. They had sweeped through an empty Shaemoor, the families abandoning their farms. They were now crossing the bridge to the gates.

"Watch lover," Caru continues, "I bet when we turn this corner the gates will be shut, barricaded, and bared while the army sits terrified inside."

Sure enough, the gate was shut and they could hear the voices of hundreds of soldiers inside. They go silent as the Mordrem approach, their footfalls echoing off the empty city walls.

Not wasting any time, Pycha pulls multiple seeds out of her saddle pouch and plants them all along the road. Within a minute they bloom into battering rams and with the help of the Mordrem Husks they push them up to the door. As they move the rams get larger and larger until they are almost as tall as the gate itself.

The ram comes to life out of nowhere, slamming into the gate with a resounding thud. Then another, then another, then another. Soon ten rams are slamming at the gate and it gives with every swing. Suddenly it snaps off the hinges, falling backward and onto multiple soldiers, their screams cut off by the door.

"Cmon!" Pycha screeches, shooting her rifle at an enemy flag carrier. He drops it with a scream, rubbing his eyes and scratching at his throat. His comrades cringe, but waste no more time and charge the mordrem, swinging their weapons wildly. The Mordrem shake off the blows and smack the first line away. The second line backs up as they continue their march but suddenly the Mordrem stop. Thinking this to be a chance to attack, one soldier swings at a thrasher, only to have an arrow hit him right in the neck. He sputters, wide eyed, and grabs at it weakly before falling backwards.

Saint laughs as his body falls, then dismounts his Teragriff and draws his swords. "Charge!" He yells and the Mordrem waste no time, rushing forwards and battling the army. Though slightly outnumbered, it is obvious that most of the humans are men-at-arms and don't know how to fight Mordrem. They fall swiftly.

Zustatek rides her Teragriff forward, smashing a couple skulls with her mace, before shouting to the Mordrem "Everyone, to the center! We march to kill the Queen!" They roar in triumph as they go, smashing houses for pleasure and leaving the street in ruin. Vines begin sprouting through holes in the roads, wrapping themselves around the houses and crushing them completely.

"I need some to go destroy the Lion's Arch portal quickly." Zustatek shouts and without a fuss Pycha takes twenty Mordrem to the portal. Already vines have begun siphoning energy from it, the portal shimmering and weak.

They weave through the maze-like center of the Reach, killing as they go, before reaching the castle. "Reborn dismount!" Zustatek orders and they jump off their Teragriffs. "Arms ready!" She says and they all draw their tools. She with her mace and shield, Saint with his two swords, and Caru with a staff. With no more flourish, they walk toward the front door and slam it open, welcoming the sight of the Shining Blade standing by to defend Queen Jennah.

Logan stands at the head. His face is a determined, set, concentrated mask. "Begone servants of Mordremoth. You will not taint our fair city and you will not take her Queen." He assumes a battle stance, signifying that he will not allow a retort from Zustatek.

Zustatek raises her own weapons, and the battle begins. As the Mordrem move to kill the Shining Blade, Zustatek swings down her mace, aimed at Logan's skull. He raises his shield, deflecting the blow instead of blocking it. Zustatek moves with her mace as it forces her to dodge to the right. Logan swings a feint side swipe to her left, switching to the right at the last minute, and she blocks it with her own shield. But then she does something no one he has ever fought has done before.

She brings her mace down, dropping it to the ground. It slams into his hand and he loses his grip on his sword. Now they both only have a shield to fight with and only one is actually a threat.

Zustatek brings her shield down, slamming the slanted part into Logan's foot, giving it a bruise. Then she pounces up, bringing it with her to slam into Logan's chin, knocking him back and dazing him. He shakes it off, but by then she has grabbed her mace and is ready to kill.

He brings his shield up to defend himself but suddenly one of the Shining Blades newest troops notices his distress. Acting on instinct he tackles Zustatek, even when she notices him coming. She quickly shakes him off, but Logan has successfully grabbed his sword back and is ready for her. She smashes the foolish blades' skull, then brings it up to face Logan again.

"Caru, Saint! Go find the Queen. I will delay her loyal soldier." She says the last word with venom. Out of the corner of her eye, her mind vaguely recognizes them running upstairs to search the rooms. She sidesteps a sudden thrust and swings her mace down at the sword, intending to smash it. He draws it back and swings at her exposed back, slamming into her armor. She gasps in pain, then spins suddenly and summons a fire from the mists under Logan. He dodges out of the way, but suddenly Zustatek slams her mace down and the earth shakes under him, making him fall on his back.

Zustatek swings her mace down at his chest. He rolls out of the way, then jumps up and onto his feet facing her.

"Mordremoth, help me with this interloper!" She whispers, and waves her hand in the shape of multiple runes. Vines erupt from the ground and grab Logan, pinning him. Zustatek jumps and slams her mace into his shield arm. He screams in pain as it goes limp, but she hits it again for more pain before the vines snap and he is free.

He shakes his shield off, tears in his eyes from the agony. Then he holds his body with his broken arm facing away from her, his sword pointed at her. She laughs at his pain, then swings her shield to deflect a blow. As the sword slides to the left, she spins and swings her mace toward him as he faulters after his sword.

The blow hits him square in the face and he falls to the ground, holding his now broken and bloody nose.

"You have lost Logan. Tell me where your Queen is and I will grant you a quick death." Zustatek says calmly to him.

"I hope you pay for this, traitor. The dragons will never defeat us! We are strong and plentiful! We will not b-" His curses are cut off in a scream as Zustatek brings her mace down on his hand, crushing the palm and breaking the bones. "MAY GRENTH HAVE MERCY ON YOU, YOU MONSTER! I HOPE YOU BURN FOREVER!" He screeches in agony before she swings her mace at his head, slamming it to the ground and leaving him defeated.

Zustatek stands over him, then looks up, tired. The Mordrem have all but defeated the Shining Blade, their morale broken as they realize Logan is down. She leaves them to run upstairs, searching for her comrades.

"Wait up Zusta- Woah..." Pycha stops as she runs through the gate, staring at the beaten and bloody Logan on the ground. "Good job." She says to Zustatek, then looks around. "Where are the lovebirds?" She asks

Suddenly a scream echoes from the stairs, startling both of the girls. They quickly grab their weapons and rush upstairs.

All the doors upstairs are completely knocked off their hinges and bodies are lying in each room. As they turn the corner however at the end of a hallway stands Saint and Caru and in between them both, being held in their arms, is the Queen herself. Her clothes are torn from an attempted escape and she has a red mark on her cheek from what looks to be a slap.

"Well done!" Pycha shouts, walking up to slap Saint on the back. "Of course, I would have done better, but you show why we keep you two as a team."

Zustatek gestures toward a balcony leading toward the center. "Shall we?" She smiles and helps them carry her to the balcony. The Mordrem have gathered the remaining townsfolk and soldiers in front of the balcony and they all let out a collective gasp as the Queen comes into view.

"Yes fools, that is right! Your Queen is defeated." Zustatek shouts to them "But be happy. You will be the ones to view this momentous event! The Execution of Royalty."

She nods to Saint, who sets down his pack and pulls out a Krytan axe. "Just so it can be more ironic." He smiles and straightens up. Then the Queen woke up.

"What is happening?" She whispers. Then she sees Saint and everything comes back to her. "N-No...This can not be! Where is Logan? Where are my bodyguard!?"

Saint makes a weak gesture toward the throne room. "Last I saw they were all face down on the floor. Don't worry, you won't suffer the same fate." His smile widens and he raises his axe for emphasis. "I've heard heads tend to lie face up."

Jennah gasps, then her head sags to the ground. Softly she whispers "Why?"

Saint looks at her suspiciously. "Why what?"

She continues in a voice barely above a whisper. "Why serve the dragon? Why destroy this world for them?"

"I am so glad you asked. We fight for her because she can give us things you couldn't even imagine!" He points to Caru, Pycha, Zustatek, and himself as he goes. "She gives us power when we are on our knees. She gives us knowledge when we know so little. She gives us a future when we have lost everything. She gives us a family when we lose our own. "

Caru pipes up from where she sits in a chair. "She gives us pleasure when we feel like we are alone. She gives us beauty when we are dressed in rags."

Pycha takes up the mantle making sure to put emphasis in her words. "She gives us a reason to be proud of ourselves! She gives us a reason to keep fighting."

Zustatek's voice seems quiet compared to the others, yet no less meaning full. "She lets us know why we fight. She lets us be free to choose our own destiny."

Queen Jennah looks even more crestfallen. She realizes there is no reasoning with these murderers. After a short while though she lifts her head and a new fire is in her eyes. "Krytans!" She shouts and shakes free of Zustatek's grasp. Before anyone can stop her she leans against the railing and shouts at the trembling people below. "I may die today but I will have you to carry on my legacy! Know that when I pass I will not give up what I believe in! The Dragon can be defeated! We have shown that with Zhaitan and we will make Mordremoth our next example! FOR TYRIA!" She races her hands, bound, above her head and the humans below roar their pleasure. Their Queen won't give in, even when Grenth comes for her.

"Alright, good speech. Bravo. Encore. Et cetera." Saint growls lowly. "Would have brought tears to my eyes if I still had a soul. Unfortunately for you, I don't." He throws her down on her knees, her head held high to show her people she is not afraid. Then he raises his axe up and brings it down, leaving her neck whistling air.

Dead silence follows for five minutes. Then the Mordrem Wolfs howl, followed by the Husk's roars and the Teragriff's screeches. Even the Thrashers are screaming wordlessly. Zustatek goes to silence them, but then Saint steps forward instead, holding the axe in one hand and her head in the other. His voice is surprisingly loud above the noise from below. "Take the humans outside the gates. Let them spread the word. Divinty's Reach has fallen and soon no one will escape the dragon's grasp. Everyone will be reshaped in the dragon's perfect image. The world will be REBORN!"

 **And that is the end of it. I feel that is the best ending I can come up with that isn't killing the Reborn. Oh and if Anet is looking, here is all my OC's that I want to see somewhere, anywhere, in Mordremoth's Army. I don't even care if they are killed.**

 **It goes like**

 **Sin-Gender-Profession-Virtue-Armor color-Skin color-Name**

Pride-Female-Engineer-Temperance-Brown-Brown(Lighter)-Pycha

Greed-Male-Ranger-Diligence-Gold-Green-Saint

Karma-Female-Gaurdian or Revenant-Red, Green, Purple-Blue-Zustatek

Envy-Male-Thief-Patience-Camo-Dark Green-Ead

Wrath-Male-Elementalist-Chastity-Red-Feargach

Gluttony-Male-Necromancer-Charity-Black-White-Ocras

lust-Female-Mesmer-Kindness-Pink-Pink-Caru

Sloth-Female-Warrior-Humility-Wine red-Orange-Mally

I hope you can understand and Pm me if you don't or so I can celebrate that you even notice me.

I will be writing backstories for each of them so be prepared for that.

Oh and none of the OC's have the same hairstyles as each other. So Caru does not look like Pycha and Ocras doesn't look like Ead. Though I think you would have made them different anyway cause you guys are awesome.


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